To Travis
by WaylonJuliusLecter
Summary: Burns and Smithers are married and have a child. Unbeknownst to them, their child is not only being severely bullied for having two dads, but is also keeping a secret. Will their child be able to open up to them? What will life be like as their child grows?
1. Hiding it

**Author's Notes: I'll explain more about how they had the child in a later chapter. I'm not sure where I'll be going with this so I'm choosing the midline rating until I know for sure if it'll become a more adult story. I'll always warn about possible triggers, uncomfortable situations, whether I'm changing the rating, etc. in the notes. If Mr. Burns seems out of character, it's because I feel he'd act differently around his family. If anyone else seems ooc, that may simply be because I don't know their character very well.**

 **So let's see how this goes!**

 **-Warnings-**

 **Bullying, swearing, and homophobic language at the beginning of this chapter.**

*Adelaide's POV*

Adelaide Smithers-Burns was not a stupid child. Having been born of two extremely intelligent men (the first child ever conceived from two males-modern science was wondrous at times), she had the wit and cunning of her older father and the inquisitiveness of the younger. But she had also inherited the latter's timidness. It was this mixture of traits that allowed her to know when she was being bullied, but be too scared to stop it from happening.

She had just exited her 5th grade classroom and was heading towards the pick up area when she heard footsteps approaching. She turned around to meet the eyes of a group of kids a grade or so older than her. They must have been from the middle school a block or so away.

"Where's your mommy?" One of the bullies said as they formed a circle around her.

"No, remember! She doesn't have a mum because she's a freak with two fag dads!"

"Yeah! And I'll bet she's a stupid fucking queer just like her old men!"

She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, trying to slow down her racing heart. 'Please don't hit me too hard.' she thought. 'Its hard to hide the bruises sometimes.' she opened them again to see the largest of the bullies in her face.

"Grab her!" he shouted. "We gotta get her before that fairy Smithers comes to pick his dyke daughter up!"

Two of the other bullies, a boy and a girl, complied. Addy tried to get free. "Let go of me!" she shouted.

The leader's fists were pounding her stomach before she could get another word out. Instead, she gasped as he beat the breath out of her. He hit her harder until a few tears slid down her face. Apparently satisfied, he high fived the other bullies, who dropped Addy to the ground, and they all walked away, leaving Addy gathering herself on the concrete.

After a minute of recovery, she got up, brushed herself off and headed to where Smithers always picked her up, trying not to pay too much attention to her hurting abdomen. He was there, waiting, and unlocked the doors when he saw her. Jumping in and setting her bag on the floor, she leaned over and hugged him, glad he couldn't see her wince as she did so.

"Hey, Sweetie." He said as they embraced. He sat back and started driving. "How was your day?"

"Fine." she lied, "I ate lunch with Milhouse today."

"Really? How was that?"

"It was alright. He's sorta slow, but nice, so that made up for it."

"Good." He knew she would enjoy his next words. "So, there's a surprise for you when you get home." he said with a grin.

Her mood was lifted slightly with her curiosity. "Really? Okay!" She clutched her school book as they drove towards Burns Manor. Once they pulled in and parked, they started walking towards the door, holding hands. Waylon unlocked it and threw it open, and Addy's face lit up as she saw Monty standing in the foyer.

"Daddy! You're home!" she ran to him and hugged him tenderly, and he hugged her back.

"Hello, my dear." he said, patting her head.

"How was the trip?" she asked. A week ago he had left for some business involving the plant. Usually Waylon would never let Monty go without him, but they decided that with a child at home, at least one of them needed to be there when the other was away.

"Oh, it was fine, my dear. I got some good manufacturer deals. Those business partners could never fool me. They'd be too scared to." Addy giggled. She loved how her father could be so intimidating to other people. It let him protect her and Smithers, who were the softer personalities of the family. "Oh! And I got you something." he said with a grin. He reached in his pocket and handed her a tiny stuffed dog.

She happily took it and pet its soft fur several times.

"There's more, dearie. Squeeze it."

She nodded and momentarily tightened her grip around the puppy's middle. It spoke in a high, cheery voice. "I wuf you! Bark bark!" She smiled and hugged Burns again. "Thank you, Dad!"

"You're welcome, my dear."

"Alright, now," Waylon said, stepping over and giving Monty a quick kiss. "I'm gonna go make dinner, I'll call you when its ready."

"Okay, Daddy." She went up the stairs to her room and added the puppy to her collection of stuffed toys. Her fathers knew she loved stuffed toys, and so bought her one whenever they went somewhere far away or new. She had every size and kind, from a tiny keychain koala to a giant singing bear.

She admired her collection for a moment, then sat down and began playing with legos and a Malibu Stacy (the latter of which she had inherited her younger father's love for).

After about an hour, Waylon was calling for his husband and child to come down and eat. Addy went into the bathroom and washed her hands, then lifted up her shirt. The bruises were starting to form. She sighed and put her shirt back down, then went down to the dining room.

Monty sat at the head of the table, as always, and Addy and Waylon sat on either side of him. As Addy accidentally scooted her chair in too far, she let out the tiniest twitch of pain as she felt the pressure against her stomach, and quickly adjusted the seat. Waylon noticed this. "Are you all right, Sweetie?" He asked, eyebrow raised. Both he and Monty looked at her inquisitively.

She waved her hand nonchalantly. "Yes, father, I'm fine." The two men nodded, Waylon looking dissatisfied with her answer, and they began eating the lovely fish and bread he had prepared for them.

Once they finished, she helped Waylon clean up while Monty went to he and Smithers' room. She then went upstairs and changed into her pajamas.

After playing with Stacy a few minutes more, a familiar loneliness set in, and she felt the need for her fathers' company. She took the little dog with her as she went downstairs to find her parents. She found them watching TV in the main sitting room, snuggling on the large couch. She walked over to them and crawled onto Smithers' lap, resting her head against his muscular chest.

Her fathers smiled, and they sat comfortably as she feel asleep.


	2. When Nightmares Come True

**Notes: General POV means an all-seeing narrator, so everyone's point of view is seen.**

 **-Warnings-**  
 **A nightmare at the beginning of this chapter involving bullying and homophobia.**

*General POV*  
She was running, screaming for her fathers, for Lisa, for Milhouse, for anyone to help her as she ran down the street, chased by towering shadow figures.

No one listened, and it seemed she was running past completely incoherent strangers. Not only did they not listen; they didn't even turn their heads. But everyone in town knew her! Why weren't they doing anything?

She was chased into a cornered alley and the figures surrounded her. Though they appeared inhuman, they had the voices of her various bullies from throughout the grades.

At first, they were mocking her, telling her she was ugly, that she was stupid, that she would never amount to anything. She could take it, though. She could live through anything they said about her.

It was only when they began talking about her fathers that the real pain started. They started punching and kicking her, hitting harder every time they called one of her fathers a disgusting name. They screamed out the insults, and just hearing them made Addy feel as if she was bleeding, her heart breaking with every word and phrase meant to mock her beloved parents. The shouts of "Fag!", "Cocksucker!", "Asskisser!" and more rang out like perverted church bells in the alley, and the whole town could hear.

They surrounded her too, laughing at her torment as she received a hard kick to the chin, making her lip bust and bleed. She cried and sobbed, looking for the face of a friend or family member among the crowd, but there were none. "Leave me alone!" she shouted. "Please, just leave me alone!" Her cries became louder until she was suddenly silenced by a sharp punch to her forehead.

She woke up sweating and gasping, her eyes wet from crying in her sleep. She sat up and rubbed her head, trying to calm herself. After a moment, she got out of bed, grabbed the puppy toy, and started walking through the huge, dark mansion towards her parents' room.

She squeezed the dog once as she walked, the cute little voice giving her just enough comfort to continue through the darkness. After what felt like a long time, she reached the door of their room. Hesitant, she stretched out her arm and knocked tenderly.

At first, no one answered, but she could hear footsteps almost immediately after she queitly called out, "Daddy?" Smithers answered the door and looked down at his child, easily sensing how troubled she felt. He leaned down and picked her up.

"What is it, Sweetie?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

She held on tightly to his shirt and shook her head, sniffling. "I...I had a bad dream. And so I need to see you and Daddy to make me feel better."

Smithers held her tightly as he walked back to bed, where Burns was waiting. "Of course, Sweetie. We're always here to make you feel better."

"What happened, Smithers?" Monty questioned, anxious to know why tears had trailed his child's face.

"The Royal Highness of Burns Manor had a bad dream." Waylon said as he set her in between them on the bed, playfully trying to cheer her up.

"What happened in your dream, dearest?" Monty said, he and his husband's presence hovering reassuringly above their child.

She looked up at them and began her recollection. "I was running from these bullies, except they looked like monsters instead of people. I...I was yelling for someone to help me, but everyone acted like I wasn't there.

The bullies cornered me and started saying bad things to me, but it wasn't the worst part. It got worse because then they said the meanest kinds of things about you, calling you nasty words..." Her tears were flowing again.

"They started beating me up, and they said more things about you two. Then everyone was there. They were all laughing. I tried telling them to stop but they just kept hurting me. Then I woke up feeling really...bad." Which was an understatement if ever there was one.

Her fathers exchanged a glance before enveloping her into a hug. As they pulled away, she reached out and held their hands. "Don't let some little old dream worry you, my dear." Monty said. "Everything's alright now that you're here with us."

"We are the knights to the Royal Highness," Smithers said playfully, "and no one will hurt her while we are here!" He tickled her and she giggled, feeling a bit better.

She lay down on the spot between them as she started drifting off to sleep again, curling up against Monty's side. They sat quietly, and once she was asleep Waylon looked over at Monty and began talking in nervous whispers.

"You don't think someone is doing things like that to her in the real world do you? Hurting her, using her feelings towards us as a weakness to really get into her head?"

Monty thought for a moment, clearly seeing the worry in Waylon's eyes. "We'll have to watch for signs. One does hope that she would tell us, but she may be too timid to directly say so. A quality she gets from you, I must admit."

Waylon rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. It took me decades to confess my love for you."

Monty chuckled before returning to his train of thought. "I will tell you this though, Smithers. If someone is hurting her they will have to suffer the wrath of Charles Montgomery Burns!" He let out a hushed version of his evil laugh. "Gah, how I wish I had someone to release the hounds onto."

"Well, personally, I hope you don't need to, at least not in relation to this issue."

"Yes, true, true, my dear Smithers. We should be getting some shuteye though." He kissed Waylon and then settled down with their child, who was still sleeping at his side. Waylon lay down on the other side of her, and soon they were both fast asleep.

...

*Waylon's POV*

A few weeks layer, Waylon was kissing his husband goodbye and driving Addy to school as usual. Once they pulled up and she started gathering her things, he leaned over and hugged her. "Have a good day, okay, Sweetie?"

She nodded and hugged him back, "Okay, Daddy. I love you."

"I love you, too." He kissed her forehead and she stepped out.

He drove back home, switched from his car to the limo, and took Monty to the plant. After a few hours of business as usual, Homer Simpson was knocking.

Smithers answered the door. "Hello, Homer. I hope this is something business related."

"It's not."

Smithers shut the door.

"D'oh!" Homer could be heard outside. "I shouldn't have said that!" Smithers began walking back to Burns' side.

"Oh, come on, Mr. Smithers, its about your kid!"

He raised an eyebrow and turned back. What could Homer Simpson possibly have to say about their child? With a slight sigh, hoping this wasn't a stupid trick, he opened the door and walked Homer over to Burns.

Monty looked up from his work, glasses resting on his nose. "Who is this?"

"Homer Simpson, sir. One of your drones from Sector 7G."

His face remained blank.

"Lisa Simpson's father, sir."

"Ah, yes!" Lisa was one of Addy's close friends and they saw her every now and then. "So, why are you here, Simpson?"

"Well, you see, Mr. Curns-"

"Burns." Smithers corrected him.

"Mr. Burns. My daughter told me some stuff about Addy that I thought maybe you'd want to know...Like, that she hasn't been feeling so well lately, and that she's acting really sad 'n stuff. So, I said, 'Well, maybe she's just sick'. But then Lisa told me the word for it would be more like demessed."

"You mean depressed?" Smithers again corrected him.

Homer put his finger to his chin as he thought for a moment. "Oh, yeah, that's the one!"

Before either of her parents could respond, the phone rang, as if on cue. Burns picked it up. "Hello?... What?...Well, we'll be there shortly...Of course I know where it is, you idiot!" He hung up and looked to Smithers. "It seems there has been an incident at the school. We must go there at once."

Smithers nodded, containing his panic about what could have happened. He hurriedly got Monty to the limo and began driving to the school.

He knew Monty must have been worried, too, but his husband's face only showed determination and an eagerness to beat upon the head of whatever had dared to touch their child. Even Waylon, normally so tender, had the desire to put his surprisingly large biceps to use as they inched closer to the school.


	3. If Only

**Author's Notes: I really like this chapter, to be honest. Hopefully you will, too! :)**

 **-Warnings-**

 **This chapter talks about bullying and depression. Very minor injuries are seen.**

*Monty's POV*

Though he would not show it as easily as Waylon, Monty was very worried. But he channeled his worry into anger. The secretary hadn't had time to explain in detail, but she had told him that Addy had done nothing wrong, at least not with intent. He knew that was a nice way of saying that someone had hurt her, emotionally or physically. Someone had laid a blatant attack on one of the two people his shriveled black heart was soft for. And that made Charles Montgomery Burns very, very angry, to say the least.

They pulled into the school and parked their vehicle, then Waylon hurried to open the door for Monty. He stepped out, and they made their way to Principal Skinner's office. As they walked in, they saw two students sitting across from Skinner. In one chair was Addy, holding a bag of ice to her black eye.

It took all of Burns' self control not to have Smithers strangle the other student then and there. Instead, he and his husband stood on either side of their child, placing protective hands on her shoulders.

"Ah, Mr. Burns and Mr. Smithers. Please, take a seat and let me explain the situation." Skinner said. Waylon pulled up a chair for Monty to sit directly across from Skinner, then took his own seat on the other side of Addy.

"Now," Skinner began, "I've talked to the students and some witnesses, and what we seem to have here is a classic schoolyard skirmish. Joey here," he gestured towards the large fifth grader, "Was seen, according to other students, harassing Addy. After a bit of this, he became violent and Addy used self defense. At this point, a teacher was notified and the fight was broken up quickly.

That brings us here now because we need to talk to the parents and then decide on disciplinary action. We already spoke with Joey's. Now, Joey, do you have anything to say to Addy's parents?"

The boy looked at them defiantly. "Not really. I did what I did. Whatever."

A forked tongue licked Burns' lips as he thought of what tortures he'd lay upon this boy if he owned the school. He turned to Skinner, crossing his legs and folding his hands. "And what punishments did you have in mind?"

"Well, we were thinking a few detentions for Joey; bullying isn't all that uncommon a problem in modern schools."

Monty's eyes flashed, peering into Skinner's very soul. "I see. So, you're going to give this boy who beat up the innocent child of the most powerful man in town just a few detentions for charges of bullying and assault?"

"N-no, M-Mr. Burns!" Skinner stammered, "I meant to say that...uh...bullying is not so uncommon a problem, and we have no tolerance for it. So the action shall be one day of in school-"

There was that tongue again.

"I-I mean three! Three days out of school suspension, no make-up work permitted!"

The tongue slid back into Burns' mouth.

"Yes, that should be a worthy discipline." Skinner said, hurriedly writing out the notes for Joey's family and the Smithers-Burns family.

Burns snatched it up and stood. "Thank you, Skinner. Now, if you'll excuse us, we will be taking our daughter home." Smithers and Addy stood as well and followed Monty out of the school and to the limo.

Waylon took the driver's seat as usual, while Monty and Addy sat in the back. Monty held her close and he could tell that she was tired from the fight, as she was soon asleep in his lap. He frowned, unhappy with her current state, and was especially keen to ask her if she was indeed depressed. But for now he would let her rest.

...

*General POV*

After a few more minutes, they pulled into Burns Manor. Waylon parked the limo, then helped Monty and Addy out. As they were walking up, Addy yawning between paces, Monty whispered in Waylon's ear. "You need to talk to her about the depression issue, and also see if she has other injuries. Her personality is more similar to yours, so perhaps she'll be more receptive than she would be with me."

"Of course, sir. I'll take care of it right away." He said, trying to make it look like they were talking about the plant.  
As Waylon unlocked the door, Addy leaned against his leg, and he gently but firmly grabbed her hand. "Now, let's go get you cleaned up. Then we have to have a talk with Daddy."

He went with her to her upstairs bathroom . He let her wash her face while he went to her room and got some fresh clothes. As he came back in, he set them on the counter and kneeled in front of her. "Now, Sweetie, you don't have to take your whole shirt off if you don't want to, but Daddy needs to see if you got hurt in other places too, okay?"

She was hesitant. "I don't know, I don't want to show you the others."

At least he now knew for sure that there were others. Though it was not a very comforting at least. "I know, Sweetie, but I've gotta make sure you're okay. I won't be mad if there's more, I promise. And besides, wouldn't you rather I be the one to react to them than Monty? You know how he gets. I'll stay calm, I promise."

The young girl nodded and lifted her shirt up to reveal the areas of her back, rib cage, and navel. There were several more bruises, some of them large and incredibly dark, and his heart hurt for his child. He noticed that she had scrapes on her elbows and knees as well.

"I assume the bruises are from punching, maybe kicking, but how did you get the scrapes?"

"He pushed me onto the sidewalk."

He internally sighed in sadness. "Ah, I see." They certainly weren't the worst injuries she could have, but it broke his heart to see her get hurt at all. "Well, Daddy's gonna patch you up and make you feel better, okay?" He kissed her forehead.

"Okay, Daddy."

He began putting ointment on the scrapes, but before he put the last bit on her right elbow, she lifted it up. "Can you kiss it?"

He nodded and gently kissed the spot. "Thank you, Daddy. It feels a little better now."

"No problem, sweetie," he said as he applied ointment to it and then put the band-aids on her. "So, Addy...why didn't you tell us? Its not safe for you to hide things like this from us. How long has it been going on?"

She looked down at the floor. "For almost as long as I've been in school...the hitting was more recent, though. That started last year...You remember a few weeks ago when you asked if I was okay when we were at dinner? And how that same day I was late to meet you after school? Well...I was late because I was getting beat up by some older kids...

I should have run to you or fought back, I know." She wiped her eyes. "But I was too scared to say anything."

Interestingly enough, those were the same words he'd told Monty when he admitted his love for the older man. She looked down at the ground, ashamed of herself. "I'm so stupid and useless."

If it was ever possible to hear a heart break, a loud cracking would have been heard escaping from Waylon Smithers' chest. He hugged her tightly and she curled her head against his neck. "Don't ever say that about yourself, Sweetie. Please. You're not stupid and you are certainly not useless."

"But I just feel so bad lately. I don't know why. I just wake up and I'm sad and then when I'm with you and Daddy it makes me feel good enough to smile for a few minutes, even though part of me is still sad inside, but then I go to bed and I'm still sad and then it starts all over again. And it makes me feel tired, but not in a sleepy way, and I don't know what to do about it."

He held her close. "We need to go talk to Daddy about this, okay?"

She nodded and he took her hand warmly in his, then walked her back downstairs to one of the sitting rooms, where Monty was waiting at the head of a large table. They joined him.

"So, Monty," Waylon began, "Addy and I had a talk about how she's been feeling. Addy, do you want to tell Daddy what you told me?"

She nodded and quietly gave him an elaboration similar to the one she gave Waylon. Monty sat and listened, contemplating. Once she was done he spoke up calmly. "Well, my dear, what you feel is something that many people have experienced. The best thing we can do about it, is to help you with whatever your needs are. Is there anything you need to tell us in that realm as of now?"

For one little moment her heart told her to say it. It could be so quick. Maybe it wouldn't go so bad. After all, it was nothing wrong and nothing that she could help. But then the moment was gone and her timidness overtook her, making her look into his eyes and say, "No, Daddy. At least, not any specific things. I think maybe I'd feel a little better if I played with you and Daddy more." The latter was true. Loneliness often afflicted her, and she believed some good old fashioned play time might help, as she had mostly played alone as of recent.

Waylon smiled a bit, tendered by the simple, childish desire. If she did have some sort of clinical depression, it made sense that having company might help her. Monty nodded, "Of course, dearest. When you need us, don't be afraid to say so. We will always help you when we can."

She smiled very slightly, comforted a bit, then excused herself to her room. She went into the closet, taking out a pair of shorts and going to her restroom. Flicking on the light, she tried them on, happily prancing about in them, imagining herself looking different than the way she did now. She was made so happy not because they were shorts; in fact, she wasn't fond of skirts, and so had many shorts and suits. No, what made her happy was something far more simple, yet far deeper, than the fact that they were shorts.

She smiled at herself one last time before taking them off, then looked at her reflection sadly.

Would she ever be able to tell her parents what was really bothering her?


	4. Just Right

**Author's Notes: I know this chapter is a bit shorter, but it was necessary for the setup I wanted. Please enjoy, nonetheless, and I will bring the next chapter to you very soon!**

*General POV*

Three months later, Waylon's alarm clock was ringing. He and Monty quickly got dressed, but they were not getting ready for work. In fact, they would not be at the plant at all today. It was a special occasion.

July Thirty First.

The best day of their lives.

They quickly yet quietly walked down to the kitchen, and Waylon reached under the cabinets, pulling out a large assortment of colorful objects. As he set them on the table, his phone buzzed. After checking the text message, he went to the front door. When he returned, Marge Simpson was following.

He checked his watch, and then looked to Monty. "Love, Marge is here to help you with putting up the decorations. I need to go to the store and pick up some things. Then I'll come back and we'll wake Addy up. If she wakes up before that, you can figure out a way to keep her upstairs." He spoke in a rush.

"Waylon, don't be so panicked! I can take care of it. Just go get what we need." Monty kissed him.

Waylon blushed a little as he always did when his love kissed him. "Of course, sir." He kissed back and hurriedly went out to his car, quickly driving to a nearby bakery.

"Hello," He greeted the teen at the counter, "I'm picking up a cake and dessert order for C. Montgomery Burns."

The young man nodded and checked through the order list, then hurried to the back and boxed a few items. He brought them to the counter and Waylon quickly paid. Balancing them in his arms, he took the boxes to the car and now rushed to the grocery store to pick up ingredients for lunch.

By the end of the hour, he was heading back home, the bags of groceries in the seat next to him. As he parked in front of the manor, he saw the Van Houten car and smiled a bit. Perhaps Milhouse wasn't the brightest kid on the block, but he had turned out to be a good friend for Addy.

Rather than open the door himself, Lisa Simpson held it open as he brought in the groceries. "Thank you, Lisa. Glad to see you made it on time."

She nodded. "My dad just dropped me off. Milhouse just got here, too." He nodded back and set the groceries on the counter. Marge had done a lovely job setting up the decorations, and a colorful banner was hanging in the archway of the sitting room.

He looked around at what they'd put together. The decorations were comforting, yet simple and not too numerous. Lisa and Milhouse were there, as were their parents, and soon a few more of Addy's friends and their parents would arrive. It was going to be a small gathering.

It was perfect.

He tapped Monty on the shoulder and they went upstairs to wake their child. As they went into her room, Monty flicked on the light and Waylon gently shook Adelaide. "Addy, Sweetie," he said gently.

She rubbed her eyes and opened them, speaking groggily. "Oh. Hi, Daddy."

"Hi, Sweetie." He said, "It's time to get up!"

"Okay." She grabbed his hand and stood, then went to her closet and picked out some clothes. Her short, tawny brown hair was messy, and after grabbing an outfit, she went to the bathroom and fixed it. Her hair was an obvious mix of her fathers': having the color of Waylon's and the side swept part that Monty had when he was younger.

As she got ready, she thought of how injury free her skin had become. No bruises, no scrapes. Her fathers checked her every few weeks just in case, but it seemed that word of Monty's power over the disciplinary system had gotten around. No one had beat her up since the incident.

Once she was clean and dressed, she exited the bathroom to find her fathers sitting on the edge of her bed.

Monty patted the spot between them. "Come please, dear. We have something for you."

She sat on the indicated spot and Waylon handed her a small envelope. She opened it, and inside was a gold locket. She clicked it open to see, on one side, a picture of her parents holding her as a newborn, wrapped delicately in a shining white blanket. On the other was a small note with their signatures, and a single word. She read the note to herself in an almost inaudible whisper. "From Waylon Smithers Jr. and Charles Montgomery Burns.

Always."

"Happy birthday." They said to her, looking down at her touched and satisfied expression. She looked up and hugged them.

"Thank you, Dads. I love it." After the firm hug was completed, she slipped the locket chain over her neck, and slid the locket under her shirt. She began walking out, but her fathers hurriedly grabbed her hands.

"Wait up, Sweetie!" Waylon said. "We have a surprise for you down there, too!" She nodded, closing her eyes and letting them lead her down the stairs. Once they maneuvered their way down, they led her to stand in front of the main sitting room archway.

"Surprise, dearest." Monty said calmly. She opened her eyes to see a colorful "Happy Birthday!" banner in the archway. Lisa and Milhouse were standing under it, in front of three other children. The parents were all chatting away in the kitchen. There weren't many decorations, but just enough to brighten up the occasion.

It was just how she would have planned it.

Within a few minutes, she and the other kids were playing in the yard. She chased Milhouse around, but resorted to tackling him to catch him because she wasn't quite fast enough to tap.

Waylon settled in a chair next to Monty, resting his arm upon the edge of the table as Marge sat down with them. Monty reached over and started stroking Waylon's hand, and the silent man blushed as his heart fluttered. Marge noticed this and smiled. "You two come off as such a lovely couple. Yet I think I speak for everyone when I say that I never would have expected it."

Burns chuckled and talked with her, continuing to caress his shy husband's hand. As Waylon sat back, relaxing with the reassuring and controlling touch of his husband and boss, he thought of what Marge had said. To be honest, he hadn't seen it coming, either. Perhaps no one could have predicted the strange, seemingly star-crossed affair that lived to become their love.

He could remember everything leading up to that day when Addy was born, and up to the present moment. He remembered the proposal, the wedding, the first date. Every detail was engraved in his mind.

He remembered the moment it all began...

 **Author's Notes: That's right, the next chapter, perhaps several, will be flashbacks! I'm looking forward to sharing this lovely couple's past with you as it occurred in this story line!**


	5. The Day

**Author's Notes: I know that perhaps two chapters in 24 hours seems fast, but I just couldn't keep my hands off this story! I simply had to share this chapter with you as soon as it shot through my brain. That being said, I hope you enjoy reading it just as I enjoyed writing it!**

*Waylon's POV*

Waylon had just gotten out of college and into a marriage. He had few feelings for her in the first place, but if she held any part of his heart at all, she lost it as he walked into Mr. Burns' office for the first time. He was immediately transfixed at the sight of the frail yet powerful man, and he wasted no time in following instructions. No introductions were needed between them; Mr. Burns had known him far too long for introductions to be appropriate. The only news they tossed about were the news of Waylon's wife and degree.

The day went by in a lovely fashion, Waylon keeping his fine mood despite his boss' less heartening demeanor.

Towards the end of the day, Monty requested a cup of coffee, and Waylon got it quickly, making sure he added the sugar and creamer Monty had said to use. As he brought it to the office and handed it to the older man, his hand barely brushed against Monty's, and their eyes met.

Waylon Smithers Jr. began loving Charles Montgomery Burns in that moment.

After several seconds of this staring, Mr. Burns became annoyed. "What are you gawking at, Smithers? Get back to work!"

Waylon floated about his business for the rest of that evening.

As his love for Monty grew with each passing day, his marriage began to deteriorate. He could remember the breaking point crystal clear.

"Come on, Waylon! Make love to me the way you used to." His wife pleaded, lounging on the bed in lingerie.

Using a crutch to help himself (he had sprained his ankle while carrying Mr. Burns around the Manor) he walked over to the dresser, atop which sat several bottles of liquor. He didn't even look back at her as he poured a drink and flatly responded. "No."

Even before he had started to fall for Mr. Burns, even back when he did make love to his wife more enthusiastically, he knew that he had never really loved her. He had known his whole life that he was gay, and she, as well as his girlfriends before her, had been no more than cover ups. And sure, he felt guilty about that, but how else was he supposed to keep his reputation safe?

Her voice came back from the bed. "It's that horrible Mr. Burns, isn't it?"

Infuriated by the way she dared to say his love's name and egged on by the alcohol in his veins, he swirled around to look her in the eye. "You leave Mr. Burns out of this!" He boomed at her. He swung his crutch, knocking over everything on the desk in his rage.

After that, he could hear Mr. Burns calling for assistance from outside, and gratefully went to help him.

By the next night, she was gone. The last time he'd see her would be a few weeks later when they finalized the divorce.

He didn't regret it. He knew she had been seeing other men anyways. And who could blame her? At least she was brave enough to get what she needed. He would have done the same, if he had the courage.

But he didn't.

Instead, he spent his days wholeheartedly slaving away to the man he so desperately loved.

…

*Monty's POV*

As Monty sat and chatted with Marge, he couldn't help but think about all that had led them to this simple and pleasing day. He had lived so long, but he didn't care about many of those memories anymore, only the ones that involved his family.

He remembered every one of those...

For him, it began on a mostly ordinary day. He had sent Waylon out to pick up the dry cleaning, and as he sat at his desk, he perused Smithers' employee file. Over the years, he had always made snide remarks in the performance reviews, talking of how Waylon wasn't fast enough, was too clumsy, and why would the assistant not stop gazing at him when he thought Burns wasn't looking?

He shook his head. Waylon was a strange boy, but Monty knew that he could find no servant more loyal and eager to please. Even if he beat up on the young man sometimes, it was his way of being grateful for the assistant's willingness to care for the old man.

As he flipped the page, his eyes fell upon a large photo of Waylon, eyes shining with that queer positivity he seemed to possess, smiling tentatively as he stared into the camera. Monty laid his hand on the picture and lightly trailed it across Smithers' cheek. He was a handsome lad, wasn't he? And so polite and helpful, too, though Monty was hesitant to admit it. All in all, he really was quite charming...

He slammed the file shut as he heard the door creak open. As Waylon entered the office, his face blush from the heat outside and shyly straightening his bow tie, their eyes met.

Charles Montgomery Burns did not love Waylon Smithers Jr. until that moment.

But once it started, he knew it would never stop.

"I already put the clean suits back in your wardrobe at the manor, sir. Sorted by color for your convenience." Waylon said, breaking the eye contact after a moment.

"Yes, thank you, Smithers." Monty replied halfheartedly, still recovering from the strange flutter in his chest just moments ago.

…

*General POV*

Waylon stopped in his tracks. Did Mr. Burns just...thank him? He looked up at the man, a happy light in his eyes. "You're welcome, sir."

"Get back to work!" Monty snapped, more irritated at himself then at Waylon. Smithers understood that the moment of appreciation was over and took his post at Monty's side.

It would be a lie to say that, as the years passed, they did not try to stop loving each other. Indeed, they both did.

"I can't love him!" Waylon would say to himself as he drank and smoked his nights away. "It'll never happen, I know, I know. I shouldn't feel this way!" He'd slam his fist on the counter, then look tearfully into the mirror. He would always sigh. "...but I do."

Monty would sit in his bed, tightly clutching Mr. Bobo. "I can't allow myself to feel this way for a man!" He'd whisper to himself. "And of all the men I could possibly have feelings for, how, how can I possibly desire the son of my closest friend? Is this not betrayal? Is it not a gross happening?" He'd talk the night away, his words only falling on Mr. Bobo's fluffy, deaf ears.

But time went on, and so did their feelings. It could all be drawn down, now, to a specific September night.

Waylon was in his apartment, and the years had made him tired of hiding. He stared into the mirror endlessly, and after what seemed like hours into the empty night, he whispered to himself, "I have to tell him."

Perhaps if he had been telepathic, he would have sensed that, on the other side of town, deep within the bowels of Burns Manor, Monty was holding Mr. Bobo with white knuckles. He dared not let go until he lifted the bear up, looked into his face and said, "I have to tell him."

The next day was stressful for both of them. Waylon stumbled throughout the day, his nervousness making him stammer through his sentences and fumble through his assignments.

Monty was having none of it, his fear about confessing making him far more irritable than usual as he yelled at his assistant, insisting that the man get his act together.

As Waylon was carrying the suggestion box into the office for Mr. Burns to check, he tripped over his own feet, the papers flying out of the lidless container. "Damn it!" He shouted as he fell onto his knees, beyond frustrated with himself. A few angry tears spilled from his eyes. He couldn't go another day living like this!

Monty stood and approached the scene of the frustrated man, noticing his shaking body. He was drawn to the man and wanted to comfort him, and knew that now was the time to say it. He slowly approached his assistant. Suddenly, the spiky locked man looked up.

"Monty," he said, "I need to tell you something, and I know it's going to be disgusting and you'll hate me for it," he wiped his eyes, "But I can't live one day more like this."

"Waylon, please calm down." Monty cooed. "There's something I must confess as well."

Waylon shook his head. "You don't understand! I've been wanting to tell you this for years, for decades, and-"

"Please listen to me."

"Monty, what I've been hiding from you is the fact that-"

"Waylon, the truth is-"

They said the last three words of their statements in unison.

"I love you."


	6. Coming Together

**Author's Notes: I'm going away for the weekend and am uploading this as we're getting ready to leave, but I simply had to get this chapter up! I hope you enjoy it! I really loved writing this one. I'll upload over the weekend if I can! :)**

*General POV*

One could almost hear the two hearts beating as the men gazed at each other in astonishment.

When Waylon broke the silence, his voice was almost inaudible, nothing more than a slight whisper. "Do...do you mean that, sir?

D-did you say..." His heart almost burst at the prospect, "That you're in love with me?"

Monty knelt down and hesitantly stroked Waylon's cheek. The younger man's face flushed at the touch. "Yes, my dear Waylon."

He finally released his breath, "Yes, I did."

Waylon looked into his love's eyes. "How long have you felt that you loved me?"

"If you must know the truth, I've been debating my feelings for some years now; nigh a decade...How long have you had feelings for me?"

"Since the first day I started working for you."

Monty thought about that statement. This man had loved him for two decades. Two decades of subservience, of no vacations, of low pay, without ever knowing if his feelings would be returned. He looked into the younger man's eyes and asked the only question that came to mind. "Why?"

Waylon appeared confused.

"I mean to say, why did you stick around all these years, not knowing if I would ever feel the same? In fact, for just over a decade of your services, I did not. So why?"

Waylon looked down as he thought. "Because, I've never been one for selfish love...I could have tried to manipulate you. I could have gotten a boyfriend. I could have pretended to myself that the feelings weren't there. But to me, you deserve more than that. I want to dedicate my whole self to you..." He paused, thinking of how he could explain it more. "I allow you to own me, because I wish to be owned, and because I want you to have someone to own."

Monty was touched, never having realized the breadth of his assistant's devotion to him.

After a moment, he spoke up. "Then, my dear Waylon, I will give you what you need." He stood, got Waylon to stand again, and went back to his desk, his temporary softness fading.

Now that he would no longer be stressed by the issue and understood their respective roles in this new relationship, he felt more like himself than ever. "Pick up those papers and let's get back to work." He was happy to order the man.

Thrilled to be working again now that he knew his love was requited, Waylon began cleaning up the scattered papers, a shy smile on his face and a rosy warmness to his cheeks.

...

A week later, they approached a table for two in "Le Poisson", a fancy French restaurant specializing in fish. Waylon's heart was beating triple-time, and he tried to contain his mix of joy and nervousness as the waiter sat them down. A candle and a rose sat beside each other in the center of the red tablecloth, and Waylon couldn't very well hide his blush as he absorbed the romantic scene set for he and his boyfriend. He was still getting used to that word applying to Mr. Burns. But he was happy that he could call him that.

The waiter brought them a lush red wine, pouring it into their large glasses. Waylon thanked him and took a light sip. Since he and Monty had gotten together, he had felt less of a need for alcohol and cigarettes. He no longer needed to drown his sorrows in smoke and liquor, and he was grateful for that.

Monty took a sip as well, then sat quietly, anxiously shifting in his seat.

"What's wrong, sir?" Waylon asked after a moment.

"Nothing, Smithers, I just…I don't know how to act on a date with a man."

Waylon laughed. He hadn't thought about how this was so different for Monty than it was for him. "The same way you'd act with a woman, for the most part. The point is that it's still a date, regardless of the gender of the person on the other side of the table."

Monty nodded and drank some more wine to help him loosen up a bit. He didn't know what to say, and was glad when two young, buff men, one in a baby blue suit and one in a red tuxedo, approached their table and started talking to the assistant. They seemed to be friends of his.

He didn't mind loving Waylon, but he was nervous of what other people would think. Would it be bad for business, being open about their relationship? It could hurt Waylon, too. The workers at the plant weren't the most sophisticated bunch. If they decided to jab at him, they would be direct and hit hard. Even if people were fine with them both being men, what about their age difference? People were bound to disapprove of that and-

The racing in his mind stopped as he saw Waylon motion towards him, blushing as he said the only two words Monty caught from the sentence.

"-my boyfriend."

The two men nodded and congratulated Waylon, mentioning how they'd been waiting for years for him to win out with his love for Burns, and how they were honestly happy for him.

As he sat and watched his boyfriend -what an interestingly delightful word- enthusiastically tell the men how he was also very pleased and felt like his life was finally going in the right direction for once, Monty gave up his anxieties. This was the happiest

he had ever seen Waylon.

He was Charles Montgomery burns, and he was not going to let some petty fears hold him back. It would take some getting used to, but so did everything in life. Settling himself, he reached across the table and laid his hand atop Waylon's.

The younger man's face turned a bright shade of red as he felt his beloved's hand rest upon his. He looked over, grinning like a schoolboy, and his two friends gave each other an understanding glance, mouthed "Good job." with a smile to Mr. Burns, and went back to their table.

After a moment, Waylon entwined his fingers with Monty's. He shyly smiled down at the table, not wanting Monty to see his pink cheeks. Once he adjusted to the wonderful feeling of holding Monty's hand, his blush dissolved and he looked back up at his boyfriend.

"I like life." He said plainly, but obviously filled with satisfaction.

Monty patted his hand. "I never thought I would say this, but so do I."

They smiled at each other and, once their extravagant meals arrived, ate in a happy silence. Neither of them knew exactly how this would all end, but they would figure that out together.

They were fine with that.

...

*Monty's POV*

If someone had told the younger Montgomery Burns that he would be marrying Waylon Smithers on a sunny June day just a year after their mutual confessions, he would have released the hounds and stomped upon their remains.

But this was not that Montgomery Burns. No, this Montgomery Burns was elated that the day had finally arrived after a year of courtship. He was clad in a crisp white duck-tail tuxedo, and as he strode into the foyer of the courtroom where the ceremony was to proceed, he saw his soon to be husband, awaiting his arrival.

Waylon was wearing a classic black tuxedo with white lapels, but there was one little touch of his own to the outfit: his aging purple bow tie sat comfortably within the collar. He leaned in to kiss Monty, but was halted by his love's hand.

"Now, dear Waylon," Monty teased him and smiled, "Save it for the ceremony!"

Waylon nodded, only to be caught off-guard as Monty quickly kissed him. "What?" he responded to Waylon's pleased but confused face. "Just because I told you not to, that doesn't mean that I can't."

Waylon only laughed, too happy to care.

It was at that moment that someone told them the ceremony was about to begin. They readied themselves and, as the music started, walked in.

On one side of the room were the plant workers (who may or may not have been told that their employment would be terminated if they did not attend) and several powerful people from both in and out of Springfield, and on the other was mostly men, muscular and wearing tight, bright hued suits, some of them holding onto each other's arms. They waved at Waylon, who smiled back. In the very back pew of the section were a few members of the Malibu Stacy fan club, ecstatic to be witnessing their President's wedding.

...

*General POV*

As they stood in front of the crowd, they were overcome with excitement. They grasped hands as the ceremony began.

It couldn't go fast enough, and soon they were slipping rings on each other's fingers, lips tingling as they drew ever closer to the words that would change their lives.

Soon, it was Monty's turn. He repeated the vows, knowing full well that he meant every one of them, and then said, "I do."

Waylon, ever the emotional type, tried to hide the tears in his eyes as he recited the words he'd been begging to say for so long. "I do."

"I now declare you: Husband and Husband."

It was the closest a kiss could ever come to being sacred: Waylon happily curling against Monty as their lips met just passionately enough to mean something, yet just restrained enough to be polite.

It was everything they ever wanted it to be.

...

Some months later, they were sitting in front of the fire, Waylon resting his head atop a pillow in Monty's lap. Monty ran his hands through Waylon's soft, spiky hair as he read the latest edition of "Evil Magazine"; this one entitled "The Secret Plan Issue!"

After some time of this calming atmosphere, Waylon stood and took a post in front of the fireplace, studying the flames with his hands behind his back. After a minute of this, Monty looked up from his magazine and set it down. "Waylon, dear, is everything alright?" he asked, glasses perched upon his nose.

Waylon kept looking at the fire, then sighed and spoke. "Monty, don't you ever wish there was more we could do? More we could accomplish?" He glanced back to see his husband's brow raised. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm happy. I'm not ashamed of you, of loving you, of my job, of my...proclivities. But sometimes I just feel like something's missing."

Monty still was curious as to what Waylon was heading towards.

"I know, I know. I have the man of my dreams, lots of money, pets, cars, a beautiful home and town. So what the hell should I be so down about?" He struggled to decide how to say what he needed to.

What he wanted to tell Monty was something he'd been thinking about since he was a young boy, something he always wanted. But he had also always known it was a long shot. "I mean, I know it won't be easy or straightforward, and maybe we'll never accomplish it in exactly the way we want, but...Monty, my love..."

Gathering his courage, he turned back to his husband, kneeling on the floor below him, one pleading hand on his knee and a determination in his eyes.

"I want to have a child."

 **That's right, the flashbacks are almost at an end (for now at least). I look forward to writing the next chapter. See you soon!**


	7. A Slight Change of Words

**Author's Note: There is some far-fetched science in this chapter, so if you're looking for something medically and scientifically accurate, you won't find it here. What you will find is a lovely couple deciding how they will have their child.**

*Monty's POV*

Charles Montgomery Burns sat in his office, hands folded as he thought of the best way to tell a certain husband of his the news he'd just received. Since Waylon's plea, Monty hadn't stopped researching and contacting the best doctors in the business to ask about possible solutions to their problem. He twiddled his thumbs and pressed the intercom. "Smithers! Come to my office!"

A few minutes later, Waylon strode in, an adorable crookedness to his bow tie from his brisk walk. "Yes?"

Monty pointed to the chair across from his desk as he stood. "Please take a seat, Waylon. We need to have a talk."

Smithers nodded obediently and sat. He looked curious, albeit confused, as to why Monty wasn't just telling him up front what was going on. But he listened to his love, as always.

After a moment, Monty walked to the side of the desk that Waylon sat on, and then leaned against the wooden edge. "Now, my dear Waylon, I know you must be wondering what I'm preparing to tell you."

His husband nodded slowly.

"And perhaps I, too, am wondering what there is in store for us. But I can't keep your eyes closed to it for too long."

He folded his hands. "I've made lots of phone calls, Waylon. I've sent letters, too. I've had correspondence with many different people. And I think I found the one.

The one who can give us a child."

Waylon's eyes brightened at the prospect. "But...how?" he said. "I mean, that's just...impossible, isn't it?"

Monty patted his husband's hand. "Up until now, my love. We might very well be the first double male couple to have a natural child together. There are a few different methods, but I'm sure we'll find the right one for us."

If Waylon had hugged him any faster he would have fallen over, were it not for the desk holding them steady. He returned the embrace. "I would ask if you're excited, but it seems you've already answered that."

Waylon pulled back and looked into Monty's eyes. "What are the options?"

"I haven't discussed them in detail yet, but I do know that the child will be completely ours. It's a new technique that has succeeded all trials. But I'll let the doctor explain more about that. That is, if you want to go through with it..."

Waylon embraced him again. "Oh, Monty...I love you."

Monty cracked a crooked grin. "I love you, too, Waylon. Now, our workday is almost done, so let's finish up and head home. Our consultation with Dr. Azelbroth is on Thursday."

Smithers separated from him, nodded with a large grin, and ran off to finish his work for the day.

...

*General POV*

Later that week, they were in the waiting room at the office of "Dr. J. Azelbroth: Prenatal specialist". After a while if sitting on the cold leather seats of the disgustingly sterile white room, they heard the nurse call, "Mr. Burns and Mr. Smithers." They approached her and signed the attendance document. "Go down the hall to your left. Room 4B."

They followed her instructions, finding the room opposite 4A. It was as any consultation room would be: A desk with two chairs across from it, boards for scans to be pinned upon along the wall, and a cabinet most likely filled with desk supplies. They took the seats and began waiting (again).

Several minutes later, the black haired, 40-something, average Joe-looking doctor strode in. "Hello, sirs." he shook their hands. "It's wonderful to meet you in the flesh." Setting a pen and clipboard on the desk, he sat. "Now, I know that you probably want to know how exactly this all happens before you make any final decisions?"

They nodded, and Waylon spoke, "Yes, how is it even possible? And what are our options for conception, carrying, and birth?"

"All good questions. I suppose I'll answer them in order.

The conception itself is a new discovery in the field of cell manipulation. We take a sperm sample from each of you, you designate which will be fertilized by the other, thereby mimicking a female egg, and then we change the cell to be fertilized by small obstructions to the genetic code of the cell.

We make these specific changes to make it so the cell still has all the traits of the donor, thereby still making the child receive DNA from both parents, but we program it so that its new function is to be fertilized rather than the other way around.

After that we allow the other sperm to fertilize it, then once it reaches a certain stage of development we put it into the designated carrier. You have a few options for this, the rest of the process depending upon which you choose."

"Yes." Monty punched in, "and what are those options?"

"Well, one is that you use a surrogate. You would choose who, and they would carry and birth the child, either by natural birth or by Caesarian Section.

Another option is to have your child artificially incubated. It's a rather new technology but it has passed all trials. The child is put into an artificial uterus, and it is carried as well as birthed by this device. Throughout the pregnancy, we put the child's nutrients and such to help it form into the device. Think of it as a large chicken egg of sorts. It may sound crazy, but I assure you it works."

Monty thought for a moment. "Those are interesting possibilities. Are there any other options?"

Dr. Azelbroth looked at his papers thoughtfully. "Well, there is one...but it's a bit more of an experimental approach. And it would involve...discomfort for one of you."

"Either way, we want to know all of our options."

He nodded. "Well, the most basic way to explain it is that one of you would carry the child."

They blinked in silent confusion. Waylon spoke up. "How...is that possible?"

"I warned you. This is the newest of the methods. It has succeeded the tests, granted, but its still experimental. You remember that device I told you about?"

They nodded.

"We'd put something similar to that inside of one of you. It has a skin to make it feel like a normal organ,and the main difference at first would be that you'd feel the extra mass inside of you, of course. We would inseminate the organ before we put it into you. Then the pregnancy occurs, and when it's time, trust me when I say that you'll feel it. You will then come to the hospital and we will remove the organ and child via C-Section.

So, those are your three options."

Monty nodded, baffled by the possibilities laid before them. Important choices must be made. "Yes. We will let you know our decision at our next appointment."

"Yes, Mr. Burns. I will see you then. Thank you for coming." He stood and led them out and back to the waiting room.

Waylon helped Monty into the limo, and then they pulled away and headed for home.

That night, as Monty sat in bed reading, Smithers balanced on the edge of the mattress, his mind heavy with thought. Eventually Monty set his book aside. "Waylon, we need to discuss our options." His husband moved to sit beside him.

"…Well, I was thinking, and I don't know that I want the surrogate." The timid man said quietly.

"Why not?"

"It would just be strange. Our child being carried around in someone else. If it was our only choice I'd take it, but it's not."

Monty nodded. "I think we are in agreement there. What about the second option?" Monty was open to their choices, but he wanted to know what Waylon would be comfortable with.

"I think that one seems promising."

"Yes." He noticed that Waylon had said "promising" rather than "good". He softly grasped Waylon's hand. "And what of the third?"

His husband hesitated before answering. "I think it seems...good."

There that word was.

"Are you sure?"

He thought for a moment. "I just feel like, if this is our child, and we have the funds as well as the opportunity...why don't we go all the way?"

"You do realize that you would have to carry the child? My body is far too old and thin to deal with the procedure."

Waylon nodded. "I know that I'd have to...Hell, I want to, Monty." He looked over at his husband as if he'd just realized something for the first time.

"I want to have our child."

 **Another slightly shorter chapter, but the transition to what should be the last phase of our flashbacks for now. Hope you enjoyed, I will bring the next chapter asap!**


	8. A Few Months and A Day

**AN: In reply to icearrows1200, yes this story is obviously not scientifically accurate. :P I tried to make it as believable as possible but one can only do so much. Addy knows how she was born but not everyone else does. As for your question, the lowest estimates say that within five years same-sex couples will be able to have natural children together.**

 **Also, I know it's been a longer break than usual and I give you my apologies! I will continue to update when I can.**

*Monty's POV*

A few months later, Monty sat nervously at his husband's bedside, knowing that at any moment Azelbroth would come to take Waylon into the implant surgery. He held his assistant's hand, stroking it reassuringly.

"You'll be alright, dear Waylon. You're strong as an ox!"

"I know, Monty. But there's only so much pushups can do to prepare me for this. But I'm ready for it. Scared, nervous, excited, but ready."

"Of course you are, love! I'm sure everything will be just fine." He wasn't going to say out loud that if it didn't turn out fine he'd sue the doctor for his entire worth and probably have him beaten to a pulp. Waylon only needed reassurance at this time.

'Speak of the devil', Monty thought to himself as Azelbroth strode in.

"Mr. Smithers," the seemingly confident doctor said, "I hope you're ready, because the operating room is."

Waylon nodded nervously and looked to Monty.

"Don't worry, I'll be waiting. I love you."

"I love you too, Monty."

They rolled him away and the older man watched as his husband closed his eyes in preparation for this profound moment. He sat down, finally, and began the wait for news of how his husband and child would fare.

A few hours later, Monty was woken from his sudden nap to see the nurses bringing Waylon back in. He was still unconscious, and if not for the setting, the peaceful look on his face would lead one to believe that he had been sleeping, rather than under the knife. Once the ruckus died down and he was hooked back up to the various machines, Monty returned to his side and took his hand.

Within a few minutes, Dr. Azelbroth had returned. "Hello, Mr. Burns. The surgery went exactly as planned. He'll have scarring of course, but we tried to make it as least invasive as possible. He will probably wake up in an hour or two depending on how his body responds to the anesthetic. If everything is stable and appearing fine, we can release him tomorrow by midday."

Monty nodded. "And when will we receive our bills?"

"Within a week I'd say. I don't think I need to warn you again just how expensive this procedure is."

"Excuse my French, Doctor, but I damn well can afford whatever my family needs. Thank you. That will be all."

Azelbroth nodded stoically and left to attend to other patients.

Another hour down the line, Waylon was waking from his drug-induced slumber. "...Monty?..." He asked, his speech slurred.

Monty answered immediately. "Yes, my love?"

"W...Where...are my glasses?..." He spoke slowly and softly, and Monty couldn't help but think he looked adorable with his slightly ruffled hair, usually so painstakingly neat, and his squinting eyes. But nonetheless, Monty reached into his pocket, wiped the lenses, and slid the coke bottle frames over his love's nose.

"Ah...thank you, dear." Waylon yawned and stretched his arms slightly, then laid one hand over where the incision had been made. A large bandage was under his gown, covering the area.

"So...I guess I'm gonna be a mommy?" He said, a cute grin playing upon his lips.

Monty couldn't help but chuckle. He, too, carefully laid his hand on the spot. "We, dearest, are going to be fathers. Now," he kissed him gently and Waylon let out a tiny moan, "You need to get your rest."

"But, sir, I only just wo-"

He narrowed his eyes at his more submissive partner. "What did I say?"

"Of course, love."

He settled down, holding Monty's hand, and was asleep in five minutes.

...

*General POV*

At first, nothing much was different, except that Waylon could not lift or carry as many things as he usually did, in order to protect the incision. The main changes the first trimester brought about were light morning sickness, mood swings, and strong cravings for his favorite sweets and entrees.

Once they were nearing the end of that first trimester, the child growing inside of him became noticeable as a small bump in his abdomen. He would calmly sway back and forth on his porch swing, leaning against Mr. Burns and gently rubbing his own stomach, as if he could caress the child inside.

The excitement to be a parent burned inside of him, and he would stay up at night, imagining how he would be with their child. He would always be forgiving, always be truthful, always be helpful. But most of all, he wanted to always be loving. He wanted more than anything to do those things.

Meanwhile, on some mornings, he and Monty would discuss names. They wanted to be as prepared as possible and so chose their favorite masculine, feminine, and genderless names. They would toss them around in hypothetical scenarios as Waylon made breakfast.

"Ah, yes, Petunia, here's your toast."

"Charles Waylon! Your eggs are ready!"

"Cass, come and get some juice."

"Alex, you need to pack your own lunch today!"

"Vladimir, where are your school books?"

"Adelaide!" They once called out in unison. They looked at each other thoughtfully.

"I like that one." Waylon said after a moment.

"As do I."

"So..." He lightly rubbed his baby bump, "If it's a girl?"

"I think so, yes."

"Addy for short?"

"Addy for short."

And so the feminine name was decided.

As the second trimester hit, changes were more noticeable. Waylon frowned upon discovering slight stretch marks lacing his hips, but he didn't let them faze him. It was a natural part of pregnancy, and he was fit as ever. Monty had hired him a personal trainer who specialized in pre and post natal fitness, and Waylon was glad to stay fit while knowing that his routine was not harming his child.

Now, pregnancy wasn't always comfortable. There were days in which he would be staying by the toilet, the morning dizziness and nausea attacking him for hours on end.

Sometimes, the cramps would hit. Thus was the first time during the pregnancy that Waylon had seemed especially vulnerable and susceptible to pain, staying in bed for several hours holding his leg or stomach or whatever was cramping, groaning the whole time through. He did not, however lose his initial resolve. 'Nine months.' he would think to himself. 'Nine months of this is worth it.'

Monty, like any father-to-be, just did his best to assist Waylon, as Waylon had assisted him for so long. He would bring him glasses of water, warm foods, extra blankets, and when physically unable to get whatever it was that Waylon needed, he would call in a servant to take care of it.

Waylon would always smile a little through his discomfort, feeling a guilty pleasure at having Monty take care of him the way he had always done for the old man.

One day, Monty walked in on Waylon studying his stretch marks in the mirror. He approached his assistant and looked at them as well. They contrasted not too starkly but noticeably against the man's hips. "You know," Monty said, "If you want, I'm sure I could afford some sort of post-natal treatment for them."

Waylon kept studying them. "No, I'm fine with them now, actually. Little reminders of our adventure in parenting." He grinned, and then laid a hand on his belly. "Oh my God..."

Monty's eyes widened. "What is it? Is something wrong?"

Smithers grinned. "No, no. It's just...I felt them kick for the first time."

"Oh!" out of curiosity, Monty laid his hand down on Waylon's stomach. He waited a while with no response.

"Hmm," Waylon thought, "Seems like they're shy."

"I wouldn't be surprised. They probably get it from you."

"C'mon, little one. That's your other Daddy's hand. Aren't you going to say hello to Daddy?"

A few moments later, a firm but almost tender -perhaps, dare Monty say, playfully loving? - kick hit precisely where Monty's hand was.

He smiled and rubbed the belly lightly before taking his hand back.

"I think they've taken a liking to you!" Waylon teased.

The third trimester brought the most intense changes, and Waylon, much to his dismay, could not safely perform many of his normal duties. He would find himself short of breath, experiencing terrible backaches and annoying, light contractions. Azelbroth assured him that all of these changes were normal, but that didn't make Waylon feel any less useless as he laid around, aching and feasting on chocolate bars, curled up with either Mr. Burns or a Malibu Stacy.

Then, on a summer day in the late seventh month, Waylon became crippled with pain and called out for Monty. Burns followed his cries to find his husband in a sweat on the floor. "Call Azelbroth! Tell him we're on our way!" Smithers barked at him. Monty called in one of his extra, temporary servants to carry Waylon to the car while Monty called Azelbroth and quickly updated him. As he dialed, he couldnt help but notice the date.

July Thirty First.

Within minutes they were on the road, the butler driving while Monty held his heaving husband in the backseat. "There, there, dear," Monty tried to ease him, "Just a few minutes and we'll be there."

Waylon did not respond, but instead continued crying into Monty's lap.

Soon, they were pulling into the hospital, and immediately Azelbroth's nurse ran out with a stretcher. She and a paramedic loaded Waylon on, then rushed him inside, followed closely by Monty.

He followed them through the halls and elevators until they reached the operating room where Azelbroth was waiting. As Monty stood outside the door a nurse handed him scrubs. "If you want to stay with him during this, you'll need to wash up and change into these." He nodded and quickly went to the restroom, cleansing his face and arms and changing onto the outfit.

Soon he was back at Waylon's side as the doctors were checking through on him, making sure the labor was running as smoothly as any such painful process could. Waylon gripped Monty's hand and closed his eyes tight.

"God dammit!" He yelled out as Monty lifted his glasses off his face," I really respect mothers now!" The nurses had to hold him still as they prepared him for surgery. Eventually they were able to get him calm enough to listen to Azelbroth.

"The surgery is about to begin, Waylon. I know you're in pain but I need you to breathe slowly and steadily as you can so the anesthesia can kick in easy." Smithers nodded, gritting his teeth, and a nurse slid the gas mask like end of the air pump over his mouth. His breath slowed as the anesthesia kicked into his blood stream, and he became devoid of pain, studying the ceiling from an odd perspective as the team went to work on the surgery.

The scalpel slid down where it had been before, reopening Waylon's abdomen. The team carefully moved and shifted organs until they found the synthetic implants. The child could be seen through the placenta, and Azelbroth's heart beat fast as he approached a breakthrough in the history of reproductive medicine. They carefully opened the placenta, and there the baby was in its yellow glory.

Monty and Waylon looked up just in time to see their child being lifted from the depths of the man's body, and it began to cry as the new environment assaulted its senses. Tears fell from its parents' eyes.

Azelbroth inspected the child, and his voice rang like church bells in their ears. "It's a girl!"

Monty could hear Waylon whisper, "A-Adelaide."

Azelbroth handed the child to a nurse to be cleaned while he began putting Waylon back together; soon enough, he was pulling together the last stitch. He then left to clean up while another nurse tended to Waylon, getting him off the anesthesia. Monty stood watch at his husband's side as they waited for news of their child.

After a few long minutes, Azelbroth strode in, delicately holding Adelaide, who was now clothed in white. He handed her to Waylon. "Meet your daughter, sirs."

The two fathers gazed down at their child, swelling with joy and pride as for the first time they studied the curves and edges of her tiny frame. Waylon wiped his eyes and held her, though he was still a bit shaky from the surgery. Monty steadied him with his hand, and Addy looked very content with her company as she calmly held onto their thumbs and rested against Waylon's chest.

Waylon whispered to her. "We'll always love you, little Addy. No matter what."

Monty whispered after him, "Always."


	9. Family Minds

**Author's Note: So this chapter is a bit different in some ways than my other chapters. I'm not really sure what happened, I just sat down, vowing to finally continue this little story I've so come to love, and this happened. i hope you like it, its got more parallelism and spends more time in their thoughts than the other chapters.**

*General POV*

The two parents were snapped back to reality as their daughter tugged on their sleeves. "Daddies?"

"Yes?" They answered simultaneously.

"May I have a band-aid? I can't reach the tall cupboard and I don't think I should climb the counters with guests here."

It was difficult not to laugh at the blatant honesty in her statement, but Waylon simply said, "Okay, Addy."

He walked her over to the other side of the kitchen and opened the cupboard above the counter. "Do you want a particular kind, Sweetie?" They had several different cutely childish styles that Addy had picked out. There was one of race cars, another of Malibu Stacy, and then a packet of generic pattern designs like hearts and dogs.

"Are there any smiley face ones left?"

He searched the patterns packet and found the last of the aforementioned design. Kneeling down next to her, he opened the wrapping. "Where do I need to put it, Sweetie?"

She pointed to a small nick just under her sleeve, it had only just stopped bleeding. "I got it while playing with Milhouse. Its just a little one but I wanted to keep it from getting dirty."

"Well, this'll do the trick." He stuck the bandage over the small cut and threw away the wrapper.

"Thank you, Daddy!" She ran back outside to her friends and Waylon helped Monty stand.

A few hours had passed, and he began preparing the table for the cake demolition. Soon the parents were calling the kids in, and their little gathering joined together in front of the table as Addy took her seat. Smithers lit the candles, and the room was filled with the mix of grown and young voices singing 'Happy Birthday'.

Once they finished, Addy thought carefully about her wish, then blew out the candles. She smiled as everyone clapped for her, but there was a sadness hidden behind her teeth.

She knew that her wish might never come true.

...

*Addy's POV*

A few years had passed, and Addy was late into her seventh grade year. As she grew older, she became a particularly distinguishable person - not because she was necessarily special, but because there were so many traits to recognize her by. She grew taller (though halted at a cozy five feet and six point five inches, as she would oft remind people), tended to keep her hair up, and still didn't talk to many other students. After much inner debate, she decided that black was her favorite color. She often listened to bands from far off countries with far off names, and watched television shows that were either outdated or British.

Interestingly enough, her overabundance of particularity kept her from being able to get a standing in any click. So instead she chose to simply remain friends with the people she'd known the longest; they were the most understanding and, like her, were very particular. She was fine with this; It helped to not be completely outcast.

However, even in her tight knit group, she didn't always feel...whole. Even around her fathers, even by herself, even in a crowd. No matter where she was, she felt a twinge inside of her, telling her that something was off. Something was missing from her life.

But perhaps what scared her more was that she was sure she knew what it was. She had known for a long time.

How could she ever tell anyone, especially her parents?

How could they possibly understand?

The only thing she hated more than knowing was not knowing.

*Waylon's POV*

Waylon Smithers Jr. was by no account a stupid man. He knew when something was bothering his child.

In all truth, he felt that there had almost always been something bothering her. It wasn't that she seemed unhappy all the time, no. She could still smile, she could still laugh, and in those moments he could oft tell from her eyes that the joy was real.

But then there were the times when he could tell that it was not. What bothered him more than knowing that these occurrences ever happened, was seeing that they happened more as she grew older. But no matter how many times he asked, her answer was always the same.

"I'm fine."

In his experience, that response usually meant, "I'm not fine."

But he did his best for his child, wanting to make her feel as stable as he could, even if she wouldn't tell him what was wrong. He would do little things for her in an attempt to help.

For instance, he would make her lunch every morning, and slip a little post-it note inside. It always had a cheery message and he hoped that it really did help her to see it everyday.

He knew that she had been bullied on and off, he knew that she was by no definition popular. In fact, he knew by pure intuition that her school life was probably alarmingly similar to how his own had been. Beyond measure he hoped that it wasn't, but he knew that just maybe it was.

He hated that. He hated knowing that his child had been beaten, had been mocked, had been gossiped about, had been ignored. He hated knowing that there was always someone who may want to hurt her. He hated knowing that he could only do something about it when he and Monty were called to the school.

And many times, as he sat with her, or watched her type out furiously on her laptop or grab a bandage in the middle of the night when she thought he wouldn't notice, he wished that he could protect her now the same way he had when she was young.

Sometimes he would sit up at night, wondering, 'Is she telling me everything? What if she has a condition? What if she needs help? Why won't she tell me?'

'Doesn't she trust me?'

The only thing he hated more than knowing was not knowing.

*Monty's POV*

Monty had always been and planned on remaining a protective person. He was protective of all things in his life. His property, his money, his power plant, and especially his family.

And so, it was not with joy that he began to take notice of Adelaide's dwindling positivity. He was not a positive person by any standards, but his dear Addy had always been. She had always been hopeful and optimistic and ready for a challenge, but now something intervened. Some source of stress was weighing down upon her, bit by bit as time went by, and he could not avoid wondering what it could possibly be. From his view of her life, she had everything. Money, loving parents, a few good friends, and a quiet enough town to call home. Wasn't that the best any person could really ask for?

Yet something still seemed to be eluding her, still causing her some inner frustration that she refused to discuss with her parents. Monty would admit that she was quite good at hiding her situation, and for long he had been blind to it. But thanks to his ever empathetic husband, who pointed out her well-hidden stress, he could now catch rare glimpses of her inner fear about whatever was on her mind.

It would appear like a pinprick of emotion across her face. She would be studying and just barely flinch. She would be smiling and have a soft sadness in her eyes. She would be laughing and for one moment appear to almost be crying.

To be true, he wasn't sure how much longer he could put up with seeing his child in such a way.

Would she ever be willing to talk to him about it?

The only thing he hated more than knowing was not knowing.

...

*Waylon's POV*

His worry over the past months was the reason why, when Waylon recognized the school's number on Monty's office phone, he knew there was a ninety percent chance that it wasn't anything good. Swallowing his fear, he picked up the phone. "Hello?"

After a short chat with the person on the line, he hung up and sighed. his husband turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. "What is it, my dear Waylon? Something wrong?"

Waylon nodded. "That was the school. They said they want to talk to us. That means parent conference. They want to do it today."

Monty put his papers away. "Go get the car ready, I'll put these away and we'll head there. We should arrive just as the school day ends."

Waylon stood and left to start up the limo. Soon, Monty walked out the building and climbed into the back seat, and Waylon sped off towards the school.

Monty had correctly predicted their arrival time, and students were pouring out of the school, eager to get home. Waylon knew that, somewhere among them, their child was walking home with Milhouse. He parked nervously and walked in with his husband. One of the guidance counselors greeted them and took them to her office.

"I'm glad to see you could make it, sirs. My apologies for the last minute call, but I won't be in tomorrow so thought it best to meet with you now."

Waylon nodded and took a seat. "Yes, thank you. But honestly, has our daughter really stirred up any trouble? I mean, she's not much one for violence as far as we've ever known."

She turned to him from her desk. "Oh, no, Mr. Smithers, she hasn't been causing trouble. In fact she's often practically a ghost here. Not often seen nor heard of. We've always heard good things about her from her previous teachers and schools, but as the year has gone on we have developed a concern or two."

Monty entered the conversation. "Oh really? And why is that?"

The counselor looked to him, then pulled a file off of her desk. She handed it to them. "She hasn't exactly been getting through this quarter with flying colors."

The fathers frowned as they went over the document. Perhaps the grades would have been reasonable if she was passing her classes, but that was not the case. She had at least one of every grade letter that was not an A, and multiples below a B. It was immediately apparent that she was in danger of failing.

Waylon looked up in confusion. "But...this doesn't make any sense. Addy, our Addy, she's never failed a class in her life! There has to be some mistake.

"There is no mistake. I printed it just this afternoon and checked it several times. Your daughter is failing. And if you can't talk her into getting these grades up soon, there will have to be disciplinary action."

Monty had no witty remark or threat. He simply said, "We will take care of it."


	10. Tonight

**A/N: Guess who finally got time to write the chapter that's been killing their subconscious for three months? Me!**

 **So, I honestly want to apologize for the long wait on this. My life is very crazy right now as I'm preparing for college, so I don't have as much time to write as I've wanted. I'm very sorry, but I promise you that I haven't abandoned this story!**

 **I don't really know where this one will end, actually, so I hope you enjoy the ride! I'm figuring things out just as you are.**

*General POV*

When they got home, Waylon slipped the keys over their ring and took off his coat, then helped Monty do the same.

The next moment, Monty was heading up the stairs to Addy's room, and Waylon followed him nervously. As they neared her room, they could hear loud music playing. They opened the door to find her in bed, facing the doorway and buried beneath the black sheets. The lights were off, and the music was coming from the stereo on her desk. Waylon turned it off.

"Adelaide Smithers-Burns, we need to have a discussion." Monty said commandingly.

Her eyes, one of the only features not hidden by the covers, flickered over to him. "About what?"

"About school, Adelaide. About your grades."

She sighed and turned over to face the other way. "Why?"

"Because you might fail this year! We will not let you get held back!"

"Look, Dad, I'm really not in the mood right now. I don't want to talk, and I most certainly don't want to argue." She sat up but still faced away from them.

Monty was growing angrier. He had been uncharacteristically tolerant of her downcast mood and strange behavior, but he was tired of it. "You are our daughter, Adelaide! You're better than this!"

For the first time in her life, she exploded at her fathers. "Shut up!" She sprang up from her bed and turned towards him. "Stop it! You don't understand! You can't fucking understand! I'm not being a stupid moody teenager! You can't fix what's wrong with me! Just...just leave me alone!" She ran past them and down the stairs. Waylon chased after her. "Adelaide! Please come back! We can talk about this!"

Monty stood in the room, listening to their footsteps. He was both infuriated and shocked by her outburst. This couldn't go on any longer. They were a family. They needed to figure this out.

Addy had locked herself in a closet downstairs, and she sat in the tight space, the darkness making her feel safer and less exposed.

Waylon sat parallel to her on the other side of the door and knocked. "Addy, please. We don't want you to be upset. We want to help you feel better."

There was silence from the other side.

"Sweetie, please. We want to understand, but we can't if you don't at least try to tell us."

Still silence.

"Addy, please. We love you."

This time he heard a sigh.

He could see Monty slowly descending the stairs as he waited for a response from their child. A few moments later, the door opened a crack. He opened the door to see her sitting quietly in the darkness. He turned to talk to her, but she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest, and he held her as he had when she was young. Eventually Monty reached them, and as they stayed in silence, they knew one single fact.

Tonight, she would tell them.

Tonight, she had to.

...

Waylon took out three mugs of hot chocolate and brought them into the sitting room where Addy and Monty were waiting. They sat in awkward silence as they waited for Waylon to make the hot beverages, seemingly inable to communicate after their spat. They rested on opposite sides of the couch, as far apart as they could be, and yet it felt like a mile between. Perhaps it felt farther because Addy had never wanted to distance herself from Monty the way she did now. Waylon internally sighed as he walked in and set the tray on the coffee table, handing each of them their mugs and sitting down between them with his own.

They took some sips in silence, and Addy was glad for the warm drink. The sweetness of the chocolate made her feel a small bit better, and the warmth slightly loosened the knots in her stomach.

After a silent eternity, Waylon set his mug down and slowly wrapped his arm around Addy's shoulders. She stared at the ground, afraid to look in his eyes.

He thought carefully before he spoke. "Addy, we've seen for a while that something's not right. We've put off talking about it because we didn't want to seem invasive. We thought that the problems with you would pass, but they haven't...We can't just watch you hurt anymore. We need to know what's wrong...please. It's time to talk about it."

She continued staring at the ground, and Monty turned towards his family, leaning around Waylon so he could see her. Her eyes flitted up when she saw the movement, and her eyes locked with his. He spoke quietly, concerned. "Adelaide, please tell us."

She turned her head away again and thought for a moment. The things she had to say, the things she'd known for so long...she didn't know how to explain. She didn't want to be misunderstood.

Finally, her voice cut through the thick silence, speaking quietly. "I'm gay."

A confused silence before Waylon spoke up. "...Addy, you know that you don't have to be nervous telling us that. I mean, of all people, you know we're fine with-"

"That's not it."

He looked at her in confusion. "It's not the fact that I'm gay. It's...it's what makes me qualify as gay that makes me nervous."

"What do you mean?"

"I..." her voice trailed off as she thought about what to say. She couldn't bear to look them in the eyes, terribly afraid. "...I'm a boy."


End file.
